Typically I hit the floor running, thanking God for my life. Today, however I couldn’t form a thought, moreover a word. It was the first sign of a bad day.
Every little task was defiantly complicated:
- Rising; I was tangled in my bedding.
- Standing; way more effort than usual.
- Walking; um, staggering.
It got worse:
- No espresso grind.
- No evaporated cane juice.
- Brown sugar was a hard lump.
- No paper towels to softening the sugar.
Without another thought or the slightest resistance I returned to bed.
“The Lord is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate to those who fear him. For he knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust.” Psalm 103: 13, 14 (NLT)
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